


waves

by kurooos



Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: Alpha Sephiroth (Compilation of FFVII), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dream Sex, Knotting, M/M, Mind Control, Omega Cloud Strife, Puppet Cloud Strife, Somnophilia, references to past Zack/Cloud
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:20:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25445998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurooos/pseuds/kurooos
Summary: Reality snaps into place. Cloud's first feeling is instant nausea from the whiplash, so many sensations coming back to him at once.Sephirothis behind him. Not Zack. And that’s his fully-popped knot he’s trying to push inside of him.
Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Comments: 3
Kudos: 253





	waves

**Author's Note:**

> please be aware of the warnings and tags before reading this!

Cloud is awake before he even opens his eyes. 

He welcomes the darkness and comes up out of unconsciousness slowly. His body is rocking softly, a barely there back and forth like he’s drifting over the top of the ocean. Somehow he knows that’s where he is. In a small wooden boat and the calm blue ocean for as far as the eye can see.

But he’s not wet. He’s comfortable and warm in the clothes he’d gone to sleep in, not even a lick of sweat that he normally has in the mornings. 

He can’t open his eyes, but he finds that he doesn’t want to. He can tell the sun is bright out here, casting his eyelids red in front of him. The inability to move usually freaks him out, sleep paralysis plaguing his nights more often than not.

But here. Here he knows he’s not alone. The familiar scent of the woods and mako is close by near his head, a beaming, boyish smile that rivals the sun watching over him. Dark hair, SOLDIER blues, a scar on his chin, chapped lips that always find his.

Cloud wouldn’t mind drifting like this out here forever. Just _them_. 

A dull thud at the bottom of the boat startles Cloud. He jumps, eyes opening just enough to catch the brightness of the vast, neverending blue ocean and blue sky and Zack’s eyes before the firm hand on his shoulder lulls him back to peace.

_It’s okay, Spike. We’re okay. Relax._

Immediately he goes back down, wood solid on his back, Zack’s thigh firm and warm under his neck and head. Zack’s fingers barely brush through his bangs before the dull thud jostles the boat again. Harder this time. The boat gives a dangerous sway to one side.

_Zack. We’re gonna tip over._

He doesn’t sit up again. Can’t. Too soothed by Zack’s calming hands and gentle voice. He knows Zack is telling him to calm down again, words of reassurance and praise and encouragement. Cloud can’t hear him well. The fond sound of his voice fading farther and farther away from him.

The boat rocks and sways harder still, kicking up the sound of waves around them, and it’s drowning Zack out. Cloud can barely hear his muffled voice. His touch is like a whisper on his shoulder and through his hair until it turns into nothing.

Cloud’s eyes blearily open and it’s slow, much slower than he’d like. But he has to blink past the heavy green haze that fogs his vision and fills his sinuses like a heavy hand. There’s a ringing in his ears, an annoying, high pitched sort that he can’t shake. A metallic coat on his tongue that won’t rub off on the roof of his mouth.

Cloud shakes his head again, frustrated that he can’t get rid of the sensations. He squeezes his eyes shut tight once more before opening them.

His bottom half is completely naked. Bare, fair skin taking up the most of his sight. He thinks that maybe he should be cold like that, feel a little exposed, but there’s an unsettling disconnect there, caused by the warmth that radiates into his back from where someone presses against him.

After a closer look at himself, he notices the clothed thighs he’s sitting on, keeping his own legs slightly parted. An arm, coated in black fabric lays possessively around his waist, keeping him still. Not that there’d be any problem, he feels completely relaxed, arms limp at his sides.

With a few blinks, he wonders when Zack moved them. When did Zack get him naked? And where is that pressure coming from?

It sits hard and heavy at the base of his spine, spreading until it’s uncomfortable and he wiggles back against Zack. He can hear his own little moan of discomfort, tongue too pressed down with cotton to form any words.

Reality snaps into place. His first feeling is instant nausea from the whiplash, so many sensations coming back to him at once.

 _Sephiroth_ is behind him. Not Zack. And that’s his fully-popped knot he’s trying to push inside of him. 

The noise Cloud makes is undeniably content. Submissive and willing and eager. Omegan.

Sephiroth’s arm around his waist tightens more, hugs him close and digs his nose into the aching hot gland at Cloud’s nape. A sudden snap of release on the pressure between his legs is followed by a rush of warmth and a gasp.

His stomach burns warm, his head burns hot, and the heat behind his eyes is scalding. Distantly he can hear the strained little whimpers and trills of an omega in distress. He wants it to stop, wants the noise to just leave him alone and let him handle this by himself.

The scent gets him next, sour and sharp with panic and _badbadbad_. It calls to the Alpha behind him, earns him a low, warm coo that vibrates against his shoulders, threads through his ears and into his head. An instinctual call for calm. Tears fall onto his own chest; He’s fucking mad because it’s _working_.

He can feel his heart rate slowing down, the ache of his body’s want to purr back in response (which he will _not_ let happen), and the tension easing out of his muscles. It doesn’t make the pain go away, but he’s powerless to react to it now.

Lips brush at the back of his neck hotly and they bring with it that dim ringing in his ears. No. He won’t. He _will not_. Despite the pressure building up in his head, far outgrowing the one between his legs he won’t- 

A sob tumbled out of his mouth as he drops his head forward, bares his neck for the Alpha. Heat curls low in his stomach when Sephiroth _purrs_ at him, drags his tongue like a brand up from the knob of his spine to his hairline, smothering him in his scent.

He tries to move and get his hands at the arm blocking him in, like he could pry it off and stumble his way to the other end of the boat, get his bearings back, clear his head. But there’s a disconnect from his mind and his body, and not a single muscle moves.

Cloud doesn’t know. Doesn’t know the why or the how. Doesn’t know that he’s been drifting in his own head for a disturbingly long amount of time until Sephiroth’s control loosened as he’d been pressing his knot in. Doesn’t know that not even Sephiroth is above the pleasures of giving into his baser instincts. 

Sephiroth is the one that doesn’t know Cloud’s drifted up to consciousness. Not until the omega is making a small, pitiful noise that signals his displeasure and his head comes off his shoulder. The comfort of not being close to his omega rubs his Alpha the wrong way and he immediately yanks for control inside of Cloud’s head. 

He muffles his chastising growl against Cloud’s ear, hand up low around his throat to pull him back against his chest. He can feel the quick tense of the omega’s muscles under him, especially around his knot before Cloud starts shaking with his own orgasm, a sweet, overwhelmed moan filling the air around them.

Letting him enjoy it is Sephiroth’s only gift to Cloud before he drags him back down deep, _deep_ into his subconscious again, blissful unawareness that leaves the Alpha with his puppet. 

It takes almost a full half hour for Sephiroth’s knot to go down and as soon as he’s able to pull free, he’s putting Cloud up onto his feet. 

His puppet stands there obediently. His cat-slit eyes are hooded and blank, unfocused and staring down at a point on the ground, unaware of the cum that starts to trail down the inside of his thighs or the weak shake of his own knees.

 _Dress yourself_. 

Cloud immediately turns to grab his discarded clothes that had been set on the ground and begins to pull them on. 

Sephiroth’s already done as Cloud manages to robotically tug his pants up. Satisfaction bleeds warmth into his veins as the distant, emotionless way Cloud dresses himself. Fully under his control. Standing there at rest once he’s done.

Sephiroth approaches quietly, bringing a hand up to caress the side of his puppet’s face. The black leather of his thumb glistens when he sweeps off the stray tears. The sight brings a smile to his face and he can’t help but want to be cruel.

He gives the boy his praise, knowing that it’s the last thing Cloud would ever want to hear from him, and tells him to head back to town where his team is still asleep.

Sephiroth watches his puppet nod slowly, a brief nudge into his palm, and then turns around and walks back into the dark town. Only when he watches the door to Cloud’s hut close does Sephiroth let his grip fade from his mind. 

And while he’d enjoy to peek into Cloud’s head and watch the realization of what’s been done to him, Sephiroth’s got other plans to get done.

**Author's Note:**

> this is definitely not even close to being my best work but im fighting some serious writers block right now and the outline for this fic was sitting in my docs, so all i needed to do was fluff it! 
> 
> thank you for reading <3 find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/kuroooos) here! <3


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